


Scientific Inquiry

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Category: Borderlands, borderlands: the pre-sequel
Genre: Multi, Threesome, artificial intelligences, i guess that's what they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6925666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone asks - and Tim hopes they never do - Timothy is totally doing this in the spirit of scientific inquiry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scientific Inquiry

**Author's Note:**

> This is really, as so much is these days, [Jillus'](http://jillus.tumblr.com) fault for starting me down the Timothy/digi-Jacks road, and who am I to say no to such a good idea.

The digi-Jacks appear to know when to keep their comments to themselves, which is good, because “let’s kill some bad guys!” is honestly the last thing Timothy wants to hear when someone’s got their fingers up his ass.

Timothy hums, and the digi-Jacks hum with him as he kisses the one in front of him, the one behind him studiously working him open with its fingers. Their touch feels electric - not the killing kind (although he supposes they technically  _ are _ the killing kind) - but a warm tingle on his skin that makes all his hair stand on end. When the one in front of him slides a hand up his chest, Tim gasps because it feels like the double’s hand trails the ghost of lightning in its wake.

Tim really,  _ really _ hopes no one walks in on this.

It’s rare that Tim has a room to himself on Elpis, but the last mission reward had been enough to afford the vault hunters some much-needed time away from each other. He had intended to just have a quick jerk-off and an early night - sleep has become a precious commodity - but in the process of undressing his fingers had brushed over the electronic band on his wrist and he had paused, and wondered.

The digi-Jacks aren’t quite  _ real _ , he knows that. They can be called and dismissed, their existence dependent on lines of computer code. But they’re real enough to hold a gun - real enough to pull his ass out of the fire - and when an untimely grenade blast had sent him stumbling backwards into one of them, the digi-Jack had turned and caught him before he fell, steadying him and keeping him upright. It had winked before it turned away.

Tim hadn’t known they were capable of that much sentience. He wondered what else they were capable of.

Quite a bit, as it turns out.

The double in front of him tastes like ozone, and Tim swears he feels sparks where their lips meet. He runs his hands lazily down the double’s bare arms - they appear to be able to undress, although each item of clothing had dissolved in a shower of blue as soon as it left the digi-Jacks’ hands. He’s caught between them now, kneeling on the bed with one smoothing a hand up and down his back as it slowly stretches him open and the other distracting him with its mouth. The one in front of him licks a stripe across his nipple and it feels like a live wire dragged across his chest; Tim shivers as the tingling dissipates, breath releasing in a rush.

If anyone asks - and Tim hopes they never do - Timothy is totally doing this in the spirit of scientific inquiry. He needs to know what this technology is capable of, obviously, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the way the doubles take direction so well, with the way they focus on him with laser intent, with the way it almost seems they can read his mind.

(It might have a  _ little _ to do with the way he’s still not entirely at ease in this body, and having two bodies, even digistructed ones, who look just like him to touch and explore and to touch him back is going a long way toward helping Timothy be comfortable in Jack’s skin.)

He shouldn’t be surprised that they have dicks. They’re exact copies of him - of  _ Jack _ , after all, and while Timothy doesn’t know his employer all that well yet, he’s getting the impression that that’s not the kind of detail Jack would leave out. They can get hard too, apparently - he’s not even sure how that happens, but okay - and when he tentatively brushes his fingers over the one in front of him they coo appreciatively in tandem.

He hasn’t - he hasn’t had a  _ lot  _ of experience in the bedroom. Never quite worked up the nerve, before, and even in this new body he’s not really sure he knows what to do. The digi-Jacks seem to know, though, and their hands on him are warm and comforting. Safe.

They learn fast, too. The one in front of him bites down with just-barely-there pressure on his lower lip and he shudders, fingers digging into his double’s arms. When he opens eyes he doesn’t remember closing the double is grinning down at him, face keen and interested. The double behind him twists its fingers, finding a spot inside him that makes Tim gasp and jerk against the other double’s arms.

All of a sudden he needs  _ more _ of this, more of whatever they can give him, and he braces his arms on one double’s shoulders as he rocks back onto the other’s fingers. The double in front of him swallows Tim’s moan as the one behind him picks up the pace. 

Tim reaches down to get a hand on his aching, neglected cock, but the digi-Jack in front of him beats him to it. Tim’s eyes nearly roll back in his head as those electric fingers wrap around his dick, stroking up and down the shaft. The double flicks a thumb over the head and Tim bites down on a shout; if someone comes to check on him he’ll never hear the end of this.

He’s so caught up in the sensation that he doesn’t notice when the double behind him pulls its fingers out, but he  _ does _ take notice when he feels a hard blunt length sliding between his cheeks. He turns to look, and the double behind him has its hands on Tim’s hips and a questioning look on its face. The digi-Jacks don’t have much in the way of vocabulary - it’s mostly self-congratulatory catch-phrases - but somehow Tim can tell that the question here is not  _ can I  _ but  _ what do you want? _

It feels like it’s been a long time since anyone asked him that.

He nods, biting his lip. The digi-Jacks share a glance over his shoulder, and the one in front of him turns his head back around for a kiss. There’s a flash of light off to the side, and moments later there’s a warm slick pressure against his entrance.

(Did they - did they just  _ digistruct lubricant _ ?)

That doesn’t matter right now - what matters is that warm, insistent stretch that's sending sparks up his spine. A hand settles in the middle of his chest, and Tim looks up to find the double in front of him watching him concernedly. Tim realizes his breath had gone shallow and irregular, and he forces himself to take deep, even breaths as the digi-Jack behind him settles him further on its cock.

The one behind him closes its arms around him, pulling him back against its chest, and an involuntary noise escapes Tim as that changes the angle inside of him. His hands come up to hold on to the double’s arms as it slowly begins to rock into him, and he leans his head back on it’s shoulder, letting the two of them support him. The initial burn is giving way to a slow spreading warmth, and he's concentrating so hard on the slide in and out of him that the first electric touch against his own dick comes as a surprise.

The other digi-Jack is licking broad stripes up his cock, and Tim whimpers from the sensation as the double sucks just the tip into its mouth, tongue flicking at the slit. It rolls its eyes up at him, and he’s pretty sure it would be grinning if it didn’t have his dick in its mouth, but he can’t really blame it because he can hear his own soft, breathy moans filling the room. The other double reaches out from behind Timothy to guide its counterpart’s head down Tim’s cock, and the digi-Jack goes all the way down, until Tim’s dick is enveloped in that tingling heat and the head hits the back of the double’s throat. The digi-Jack pulls back and goes back down easily, like it’s nothing - the small part of Tim’s mind that’s still capable of rational thought supposes that they don’t need to breathe, not really, and there’s no reason for them to have a gag reflex, but then the digi-Jack in front of him hollows out his cheeks and  _ sucks _ , and there’s no more thinking after that.

It’s incredible. Tim’s never felt anything like it. He’s caught between thrusting into that hot mouth and pressing back onto the dick driving into him, but the digi-Jacks have a perfectly synchronized rhythm going and he lets them hold him up and have their way with him. Just when he feels like he’s maybe got the hang of this, the digi-Jacks slow in unison, and Tim blinks to try to re-focus his vision.

“Wha-” he starts, turning his head, but the double behind him just rests its chin on Tim’s shoulder and grins at him. It thrusts deep and slow and  _ oh,  _ this is - this is  _ dangerous _ , Tim could get lost in this. He blinks away wetness because this is  _ so much _ \- the staticky press of the cock inside him and the drag of lips up and down his own dick are overwhelming. He feels like he’s being taken apart underneath their hands; his senses feel overloaded, his doubles’ touch the only thing keeping him from flying apart.

He doesn’t know how long they keep him like that, building him up and then slowing down, alternating the pace until he can’t guess what’s coming next and is practically crying for release. When he does finally ask for it - a stuttered out, breathless “please,” - the digi-Jack behind him presses a kiss to the side of his neck and the one in front of him digs its fingers into his thighs. Together they drag his orgasm out of him, pressed between them and held together by hands that are made in his image.

(In  _ Jack’s  _ image.)

Through the post-orgasmic haze he dimly feels the digi-Jack’s cock twitching inside him, and he wonders fuzzily if they can actually come, but that doesn’t much matter right now. Nothing matters right now, nothing except the twin sets of hands settling him down on the bed. He feels a faint twinge that tells him he’ll be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it, it was all worth it, and he blinks his eyes open to see the two digi-Jacks looking down at him smugly.

“Great job, guys,” he mumbles, not really paying attention to what’s coming out of his mouth. “Good team effort. High-five.”

The doubles look at each other and back at him, and each raise a hand. Tim blinks, plays back what he’s just said in his head, and laughs.

“No, guys, I was - I was  _ kidding _ , it’s just a phrase, get it-” but the digi-Jacks are still looking at him expectantly, and what the hell, he thinks giddily. If it makes them happy...

“All right, go team!” Tim says, clapping each of the outstretched hands with one of his own. The digi-Jacks grin blindingly at him, and as if that was a signal, dissolve in a shower of blue sparks, leaving him alone in his room.

Timothy settles back on the bed, feeling better than he has in weeks. The digi-Jacks will probably need some extra time to recharge after this, but Tim’s not going anywhere himself for the next several hours (and if someone comes to drag him out of bed, he is going to be  _ really _ cranky at them).

Tim brushes his fingers over the electronic band on his wrist again. Sure, the body double business is lonely, but - maybe it’s not as lonely as he thought. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
